Fighting It Through
by Lujayn
Summary: ...we'll face this apocalypse thing as brothers, we'll fight this through..." Dean is having a bad day at the harbor and it's Sam to the rescue. Post 4.17. Sick! Dean, protective! Sam.


**A/N: **This is my first fanfic so I hope you enjoy and please tell me what you think:) Huge thanks to Soncnica for her encouragement and for helping me out with this story. Girl, you're awesome! Contains minor spoilers for 4.17.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own them. They belong to Kripke and the CW.

**Fighting It Through**

The impact of the force flung him across the jetty and for a moment he wondered if it was like in the movies, you know in the way too exaggerated slow motion. Dean stood up, squared his shoulders and assembled his face to an angry glare.

"Bring it on, Baldy."

The spirit sneered and Dean fired, wiping out the smile with rock salt hitting it squarely in the face. The spirit vanished into a wisp of white smoke. Dean needed to buy more time to keep the ghost busy for Sam to salt and burn the bones, but the ghost's recovery time was none to zilch, as it soon reappeared and suddenly lashed out at him, its bony fingers grabbing his neck and he felt a cold sensation spreading all over his body, like he was freezing. The next thing he knew, he was falling deep into the black water, the spirit attempting to drown him as he fought his way to the surface.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

The long spears of raindrops struck on his smooth skin, the water dripping on his face in tiny rivulets that washed away the blood. He licked his lips and grimaced at the taste of blood mingled with water. A throbbing headache snaked its way above his right eye.

"Dean!"

The voice of his brother full of worry and concern echoed around the deserted harbor. Lightning ripped across the dark sky, faintly illuminating the tied boats that bobbed on the water.

"Dean!"

He blinked, trying to drown out the dizziness. The raindrops pelted on the wooden planks with loud pounding sounds and the headache twisted deeper into his mind.

"DEAN!"

This time it was closer and Dean forced his eyes open, his vision still murky at the edges. Every muscle in his exhausted body ached but he forced himself up on his elbows, holding onto the edge of the jetty, his lower body dangling in water.

Sam cursed under his breath as he quickened his pace, his left leg protesting from the pain that lashed out with each step that he took. His eyes were focused on the figure of Dean near the edge of the jetty, afraid that his brother would disappear in the misty cloudiness that the rain had brought or worse, plunge back into the dark water. And he wasn't going to let that happen. Not the rain and definitely not his protesting leg was gonna stop him, because he would drag himself and crawl on his knees if he had to just to get to Dean.

Dean's numb fingers were slipping from his grasp and just when they were about to let go, strong hands pulled him up and sure enough Sam's head hovered over his hazy eyes when Sam turned him.

"You okay?" Sam asked, a sigh of relief issuing from him.

He looked up to Sam's worried face, his brother's eyes searching for any signs of injury.

"M'fine," he replied with a sneeze.

Sam didn't sound convinced and he was eyeing his forehead with frown.

"And this?" He asked, pointing at the gash that was just below the hairline on his right side.

"Bumped my head when the spirit decided to get creative. No big deal."

"Right. I'm checking that wound as soon as we get back to the motel. Come on."

Sam put a hand on his shoulder and helped him up, but he was so tired that he ended up leaning against him.

"I told you that you playing bait in the rain was a bad idea."

"Don't be such a wuss, Sammy."

He sneezed out loud.

"Dude, I know you have flu. You've been hiding that since yesterday."

"No I haven't. I feel awesome!"

Another sneeze, then followed by another.

"Yeah, I can see that. You look like crap Dean."

"Thanks, now will you stop whining."

"I don't whine."

He replied with a snort as he helped Dean towards the Impala.

Dean's skin was ashen and he was shivering slightly. That wasn't good. Dean had stayed in the water for too long already. His thoughts were cut short when Dean came to an abrupt halt.

"What happened to your leg?"

Sam hadn't expected that one coming, so he tumbled over, "I tripped, that's all. I can still help-"

"I'm fine. I can walk."

It took them ten minutes to get to the car. Sam watched mutely as Dean handed him the keys and stumbled into the passenger seat. _Yep, definitely not good. _

SNSNSNSN

Dean was trembling under the blanket, head tilted to one side so that he was leaning on the window, eyes closed. White knuckles pressed hard against the steering wheel and Sam revved up the engine.

"Dude, lighten up, will you," Dean's voice broke the silence. He sneezed. "Ya should have seen yourself in that freaky yellow shirt sharpening pencils."

"What?" Sam answered with a note of surprise. "So who's the one bragging about how the Master Cleanse does wonders while grazing on vegetables?"

"That was gross," Dean said, making a face, "total cow food."

SNSNSNSN

He staggered into the bathroom, walls spinning around him, pain searing through his shaking body, his legs wobbling with fatigue and overuse. There was a knock at the door.

"You okay in there?"

His reply sounded more of a groan so he tottered out of the bathroom in clean dry clothes and plopped down on his bed before Sam could say anything. In the swirling darkness that seemed to encroach his vision, he heard a chair being pulled and Sam settled himself next to the bed with the first-aid kit in his hand.

"I'm gonna clean the wound on your forehead, alright?"

Dean mumbled something close to 'whatever' so he took it as 'fine'. By the time he was done, Dean was sound asleep so he pulled the blanket and was about to stand up when Dean suddenly held his arm.

"I need to…your leg…gotta check…"

"You can't even open your eyes, man. Look, I'll handle it myself, okay? I promise.'

Dean nodded and without another word, slipped back into unconsciousness.

Sam got himself a cold compress, went back to sit on the chair and was soon grateful when the ache in his leg began to ebb away. Dean seemed to be in a deep slumber probably due to exhaustion and head-bashing.

"You know, I remember when I was seven and we were in some motel. Dad was on a hunt and he had left you to take care of me but you got sick. I remember I was so scared for you, I didn't want you to be alone, so I took a chair and sat at your bedside. I wanted to look after you but I…" he gave a soft chuckle, "I fell asleep and when I woke up I was on the bed and you…you Dean were on the chair, watching over me. You told me that I didn't have to worry, that everything would be okay, that you would be fine because I was there with you and that you would always be there for me."

He smiled as he relived the memory. He didn't know why he was saying that but he just felt like he had to, like it would somehow make him feel better.

"I don't know if you trust me anymore. I mean with the lies, the excuses…" he sighed. "I just wanted to say that no matter what happens, I won't walk out on you. We'll face this apocalypse thing together as brothers, we'll fight this through, and I'll be there for you just like you have been for me."

Sam rose up, showered, made sure his leg was properly elevated and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. The rain outside had stopped; only a gentle wind blew softly.

"I have faith in you Sammy," Dean whispered.

End


End file.
